


5 Times Peter Didn’t Need Tony’s Help

by blondsak, seekrest



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peter Parker, Humor, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, we put the boys through it in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: And the one time he did.Or, Spider-Man is capable of handling a lot of the threats that come his way. Much to the terror and amazement of Tony.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 422
Kudos: 1004
Collections: love of marvel





	1. Vulture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iron_spider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/gifts).



> Happy early birthday Iron_Spider! We love you and are so thankful for all that you do for the IronDad community. 
> 
> We hope you feel loved and celebrated all week leading up to your birthday with a 5+1 about your favorite boys :)

“Have you heard from the kid?”

Tony frowned, seeing Pepper’s concerned gaze as he waved an apologetic hand to the party guests, walking out towards the balcony as he tried to focus on what Happy had asked him. 

“What’s going on, Hap?” Tony asked, feeling a twinge of something in his chest. It’d been a few weeks since he’d taken the kid’s suit from him, the terror of what could’ve happened on that ferry overwhelming any sense of reason. 

Tony had meant to reach out to him, once his anger had cooled and some of the fear had settled but time got away from him - though if Tony was honest with himself, it had less to do with time and more the nagging guilt that he’d made the wrong decision.

He couldn’t allow Peter to get hurt, the panic of what could’ve happened if he had still eating at him. But hearing the tension in Happy’s voice was enough to set him on edge, teetering close to a level of dread that threatened to overwhelm him. 

“The uh, the plane.. With all the tech, Cap’s shield it--” Tony could hear Happy sigh through the other line, “I messed up, Tony. The kid--Pete, he saved it.”

“What do you mean saved it?” Tony’s breath hitches, eyes scanning the skyline as if it would somehow grant him answers that he didn’t have. He and Pepper were at a gala - some event that he hadn’t even wanted to go to but did for her.

And yet now all Tony could think was that something had happened - something had happened to _Peter_ \- and he hadn’t been around to stop it. 

“It was the Vulture guy, he tried to steal the plane but the kid brought it down. Webbed him up and disappeared.”

Tony hears the words but can’t comprehend them - his brain not matching up the image of the _fifteen-year-old_ kid he’d sent home in Hello Kitty pajamas with taking down an entire plane.

He knew the kid was strong, his memory of Peter single-handedly trying to keep that ferry together moments before he’d arrived coming back to him. 

A thought occurs to him that if he hadn’t shown up - that if what Happy was saying was true - maybe Peter would’ve been able to bring the two sections together, even as Tony dismisses that as being crazy.

 _He’s a kid. He’s just a kid._

“Where is he now?” Tony asks, already signaling for a suit to come to him. He’d have to apologize to Pepper later for leaving but a part of Tony knew she would understand, recognizing it was for Peter - considering how much he’d talked to her about everything that had happened.

“That’s what I’m saying, boss. I don’t know.” Happy’s words just stir Tony on more, seeing the suit in the distance. “I was hoping-- I was hoping he’d reached out to you.”

 _He wouldn’t. Not after our last conversation._ Tony thinks, letting the suit envelop him as he transfers the call to the HUD monitor, flying upwards.

“I’ll find him, Hap. If you hear from him, let me know.”

With that Tony ends the call and takes to the sky, hoping that he hadn’t made a mistake that had cost the kid his life. 

* * *

“FRI, keep scanning.” Tony’s eyes were everywhere, cursing himself for not attaching some kind of tracker on the kid.

Of course, he knows that if Peter had the suit he’d created, that he wouldn’t be in this predicament - frantically searching for a teenager on random rooftops in Queens.

At least that’s where Tony assumed he was, wondering if he could figure out where Fred, Ted, whatever the kid’s best friend’s name was - _Ned, it’s Ned_ \- and if he would know where Peter would--

“Found him, boss.” 

Tony’s eyes immediately went to the alert on the screen in front of him, changing his flight plan to the direction that FRIDAY had indicated. 

Happy had sent along some pictures of the plane, the images only spurning on the panic that he could feel building in his gut. More images immediately rush to the forefront of his mind, imagining what he was about to encounter.

Images of Peter bloody, bruised, bleeding out somewhere, the horror of realizing he was just a few seconds too late, of having to make a call to his aunt, telling her that---

But before his waking nightmares can get away from him, Tony sees him - not just on the screen but in front of him - crouched down behind the stairs of a rooftop, knees up with his head down, braced by his crossed hands. 

Tony’s heart-rate spikes as he lands, dreading the possibility that Peter was so hurt or disoriented that he wasn’t even aware that Tony was there, only for Peter’s head to lift - seeing the kid’s focused gaze staring back at him. 

“Hey Mister Stark.”

Peter’s voice is sullen, almost detached in a way that does nothing to calm Tony’s nerves - wondering if he has some kind of concussion or internal bleeding somewhere.

“FRIDAY, scan him,” he whispers, though from the upturn of Peter’s lip, he can tell that the kid heard him. Tony pushes forward as he lets himself out of the suit.

Peter doesn’t even look surprised that he’s there, causing Tony to be more concerned as he asks, “You okay, kid?”

Peter’s eyes shift to Tony, seeing the way his expression changes from one of almost boredom to curiosity. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you— what are you doing here?” 

Tony could almost laugh at the absurdity of their conversation, as if Peter bringing down a fucking _jet_ was a normal Friday occurrence. His eyes dance around to see if there’s any more noticeable injuries aside from the superficial bruises and cuts on Peter’s face. 

FRIDAY’s voice rings out then, calming his nerves slightly as she says, “Peter appears to have a slight concussion and two bruised ribs.”

“Internal bleeding?” he asks, Peter just staring at him with a small smile on his face. 

“I’m okay, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah well, let’s let the million-dollar tech decide that alright?” Tony answers back, Peter’s smile growing wider as he stands - Tony’s hands involuntarily reaching for him to help him up. 

“There are no other injuries, boss.” 

Peter looks at Tony expectantly, realizing his hands are still holding Peter’s arms as he steps back - patting his arm awkwardly as Tony grimaces. 

It was one thing to know it from FRIDAY, trusting that his tech wasn’t lying to him. But from the looks of it, Peter seemed to be okay - something Tony couldn’t really wrap his head around considering the footage he saw of the plane. 

“What the hell were you thinking, kid?”

His words are harsh, but his voice is soft - seeing the way Peter holds his gaze, searching his face for something before Peter sighs, shrugging again. 

“Can’t let the bad things happen, Mr. Stark.”

Something twinges in Tony’s chest again as he nods, fully realizing how foolish he’d been to think that just because he’d taken the suit away from the kid that Peter would stop trying to help where he believed he was needed. 

Peter had been swinging around the city for months before Tony had ever walked into his life, wearing the same faded onesie he had on now. Tony should’ve known that with or without his tech - Peter would never stop being Spider-Man. 

He makes an instantaneous decision, clapping his hands on Peter’s shoulders again - already thinking of how deeply he’d underestimated the kid, not only for his drive but also for his powers - making a mental note to question how strong Peter actually was if he could’ve handled a several thousand pound jet with barely a scratch. 

“Alright well, I can’t keep you out here looking like this. Let’s get you home. FRI, can you send a car out?” 

Peter’s eyes widen, the first time he’s shown any fear in his eyes all night as he says, “I--I can’t go home like this, Mr. Stark. May, she’ll--”

“Oh whoa kid,” Tony tries to calm him, moving one hand to Peter’s chest to brace him. “I said I can’t keep you out looking like _this_. I’ll also feel a lot better when I have an actual medical professional check you out.”

“I resent that, boss,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out, making both Peter and Tony laugh - easing the nascent tension between them. 

Tony knows that he messed up - letting the kid go off like he did, not checking up on him, doing such a shit job in looking out for Peter that he hadn’t even recognized that the kid would go out and do what he did anyway. 

But it wasn’t the time for that, thinking that he wouldn’t be able to find the right words to express what he was feeling for Peter now. A mixture of worry, concern, and guilt - knowing that this night could’ve gone far worse for the both of them.

But Peter seems to understand him anyway, locking eyes with Tony as he smiles again and says, “Thanks for finding me, Mr. Stark.”

Tony understands the double meaning in his words, tightening the grip on his shoulder before letting go, nodding as he says, “‘Course kid, I’m here for you.”

It’s not what he wants to say - the words dying in his throat as he tries to make sense of the new feeling in his gut - but it’s enough, smiling back at Peter as FRIDAY alerts them that the car had arrived. 

Tony knows he’ll have to do a better job of this - whatever _this_ is, thinking first of the Iron Spider suit he’d been tinkering with, already wondering how he could invite the kid up to the compound and invite him to be a part of the team.

For all his fear and worry of letting Peter down or of putting him at risk, Peter had more than proven himself tonight to be every bit the hero that Tony knew he had been when he walked into his small bedroom almost seven months ago. 

Tony had been afraid, a worry that he would make a mistake that would cause Peter to die and that his blood would be on his hands.

But as they make their way off the roof - the suit encasing him as Peter grins, pulling the hood back on and straight up _walking_ down the side of the building - Tony realizes that he’d made a bigger mistake in taking the suit than he’d realized.

Tony had underestimated Peter. 

He wouldn’t make that same mistake again.


	2. Chemistro

_ Six months later _

The chaos began like most things related to a certain crime-fighting spider-kid: with an alert from FRIDAY. 

Tony had just gotten back to his and Pepper’s Boston condo after a long day of meetings at SI’s northeast satellite. Wearily he kicks off a pair of Ferragamos, daydreaming about taking a nap when the AI speaks up.

“Boss, Spider-Man is currently headlining on WNYC channel four.”

Tony looks up with wide eyes, exhaustion fleeing. “Play it, FRI.”

The living room television turns on, displaying a live feed of downtown Manhattan where Spider-Man clings to a building, shouting something inaudible down at a man in a red and gray metal suit.   


Tony doesn’t recognize the get-up but whoever the guy is, he has some type of large, scifi-looking gun in his hands— a gun which is currently aimed at Peter. Tony scrutinizes the weapon; it’s not Chitauri tech, but it doesn’t resemble any human-made gun Tony’s ever seen before either.

The ticker at the bottom of the screen reads 

SPIDER-MAN BATTLES CHEMISTRO IN MANHATTAN: CIVILIANS FLEE IN FEAR FOR THEIR LIVES.

“Chemistro?” Tony says, face scrunching. “What the hell kind of moniker is that? Sounds like something a bunch of nerdy teenagers would come up with.” Tony pauses. “Wait a sec - FRI, don’t tell me that Peter--”

“It appears the title is self-inflicted, boss,” FRIDAY dryly replies, before continuing. “Chemistro is an unidentified criminal who first appeared in news alerts three weeks ago.   


He appears to have no agenda other than to cause mayhem. His weapon is capable of inducing elemental transmutations when its ray comes into contact with an object.”

“Elemental transmutations? As in alter the physical properties of matter?”

His question is answered when Chemistro shoots his gun at Peter, who swings out of the way easily - the blast hitting the brick wall of the building he was clinging to instead. Tony watches in fascination as the brick morphs into what looks like cardboard, falling to the ground in a heap and exposing the building’s interior.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tony says, the scientist in him impressed despite the seriousness of the situation. “FRI, compile what data you can on that tech. I want to find out exactly how that weapon ticks.”

“Done, boss.”

Tony’s kept from geeking out when he sees Peter nearly take another direct hit. For a vigilante who captured the Vulture, the kid sure seems to be having trouble taking down one terribly-named criminal with subpar aim.

Tony pulls out his phone, dialing Peter. It rings twice before the kid picks up.

_ “What’s up, Mister Stark? You back from Boston yet?” _

Tony rolls his eyes at the casual inflection. The kid sounds far too much like his normal, chipper self considering he’s in the middle of a damn fight.   


_ Has he no sense of self-preservation? _

Tony rolls his eyes again, but this time at himself. He knows better than to ask stupid questions.

“‘Fraid not. As for what’s up, I’d ask you the same thing but I’m currently watching it on the five o’clock news,” Tony says. 

_ “Really? Cool! How do I look? The camera always adds ten pounds, y’know.” _

Tony smirks despite himself. “You’re wearing my tech underoos, ergo you look positively dashing. Now focus-- do you need back-up?”

_ “Nah, Chemistro’s pretty tame. Caught him turning a wooden bench into a glob of burnt rubber in Central Park just last-- shit!” _

Tony watches with no small amount of worry as one of the gun’s rays comes within millimeters of Peter just as he swings between buildings, before continuing down the block. 

The two news anchors gasp in unison when it strikes a civilian who had just turned a corner, seemingly unaware of the danger. Tony watches in horror as the man turns into a giant pile of-- is that sand?

_ “Oh my god. Mister Stark, I think he just…”  _ Peter trails off, voice completely devoid of its previously carefree tone. 

Meanwhile Tony is already running for the balcony. He activates his wristwatch, the suit immediately encasing him as he leaps over the edge, blasting off in the direction of New York. “I’m on my way, kid. Give me five minutes and we’ll take him down together, alright?”

_ “I, I gotta go - I gotta stop him before he hurts anyone else.” _

“No,” Tony snaps, a bolt of fear running through him. “Stand down, Spider-Man - that’s an order. I’ll be there in--”

_ “Sorry Mister Stark, but I can’t wait-- people are counting on me.” _

“Now listen here a damn second, kid--”

_ “Karen, initiate blackout mode.” _

Peter hangs up. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Tony mutters. “Patch me through again, FRI - and make it snappy.”

There’s silence for a few moments before FRIDAY comes back with, “Boss, there appears to be a signal jamming the connection. I am presently unable to make contact.”

Tony growls in frustration, breaths coming quick and furious now. “I never should have let the kid code his own upgrades… _ fuck! _ ”

He increases the thrust, pushing the suit to its max.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Tony mutters. “You still listening, Parker? You’re dead meat, kid.” 

_ Just as soon as I make sure you’re okay. _

It’s not the longest five minutes of Tony’s life but it’s close. He considers asking FRIDAY for updates on Peter, but figures it’s better for his health if he doesn’t. Even as unhelpful as he is to the kid right now, he’d be utterly  _ useless _ if he had a heart attack.

_ Damn it, kid. _

By the time he reaches Manhattan it’s back to the usual— no familiar red and blue clad superhero swinging about, no ray blasts, nothing.

Tony tries hard not to think about what that could mean when he lands on pavement amidst a horde of NYPD cops milling about and setting up crime tape.

He hears a commotion to his left and turns just in time to see an unmasked and webbed up Chemistro getting manhandled into the back of a cop car. 

“I’ll get you, Spider-Man!” the villain cries out, just before the door is slammed shut in his face. Despite being effectively muted he continues to yell out various threats, expression murderous.

Tony turns to the nearest policeman and asks in a gruff, no-nonsense tone, “Where’s Spider-Man?”

The cop stares at him with wide eyes before pointing in the direction of an ambulance parked down the street.

Tony’s heart jumps into his throat as he blasts off, hoping that he’s not about to be faced with a grievously injured - or worse, transformed - Peter.

He sighs in relief when he spots the familiar Spidey suit. Peter is standing near the ambulance, watching as a backboard with a vaguely human-shaped ever-shifting blob of sand gets loaded into the back. 

The ray that Peter barely avoided and that nearly flung Tony into v-fib. Which reminds him--

“You’re in big trouble, kid,” he says, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with the teen. “Hanging up on me and then cutting FRIDAY out on top of it? You’re gonna be so grounded when Aunt Hottie finds--”

He cuts himself off when the kid’s shoulders suddenly sag. Peter hasn’t even glanced at Tony, instead keeps staring despondently at the ambulance as it takes off, siren blaring.

Tony takes a long, deep breath, before putting one arm around the kid and squeezing gently. “He’ll be okay, underoos.”

“I hope so,” Peter replies in a subdued voice once the ambulance has disappeared around a corner. He sighs deeply, before turning to look at Tony. 

“Did you see how I trapped Chemistro though? I had to use a hybrid web combo on the fly but it  _ totally _ worked even better than I thought it would-- pulled his alchemy gun right out of his hands!”

Tony blinks. “Excuse me, his  _ alchemy gun? _ Seriously?”

Peter shrugs. “That’s what he called it.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning. “I swear, villain personas are getting more ridiculous by the damn day. I should tell the mayor to test the water supply.”

“Chemistro’s  _ nothing _ , Mister Stark,” Peter solemnly responds, voice thick with the hard-earned street smarts of a teenage superhero who’s been around for all of ten months. “You think that’s dumb, you should see this one dude I came across in Brooklyn who leaps around in green lycra and carries a slime gun and -  _ get this -  _ calls himself--”

Tony throws a hand up. “Nuh-uh. Haven’t you read Harry Potter? The more you say a name, underoos, the more power it has. As your mentor, I refuse to let you speak stupidity into reality any more than strictly necessary.”

The mask lenses roll but all the same Peter laughs, the sound of it warming Tony’s chest. He looks around - already things are calming down, police clearing out as civilians return to resume their day.

“Alright kiddo, what do you say we pick up some pizza and go veg out at your place until May gets home? Because I wasn’t joking about the grounding. A two week sentence sounds fair, and I'm betting the judge will agree.”

“Of course May will agree with you,” Peter whines. “You guys never seem to  _ not _ agree anymore.”

Tony chuckles, nodding his head because, well, the kid is right, even if it wasn’t easy getting to that point. When May had first found out about Spider-Man she’d been absolutely pissed as all hell at Tony. 

It had taken several long conversations and negotiating of ground rules and boundaries to get her to agree to let Peter still even see Tony, much less for him to be the kid’s full-on superhero mentor. 

But gradually, over time and with many phone calls and check-ins and Thai takeout dinners, they’d evolved from a purely business relationship to somehow being friends. 

Of course, that didn’t mean she never took Tony to task anymore, but at least now it was done without any threats of hitting him with a wooden spoon.

“What can I say, underoos,” Tony says with a grin. “May’s a very wise woman.”

Peter lets out an annoyed huff but is smart enough to stay quiet, probably recognizing Tony will just dig his heels in. “Can we at least get Hawaiian?”

“I’ll have you know that pineapple on pizza is a travesty, Mister Parker.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who dips his fries into strawberry shakes,” Peter mutters just loud enough for Tony to hear.

“I changed my mind. Three weeks.”

“Oh  _ c’mon _ !”


	3. Rhino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a few people have asked, all villains in this are 100% real - blondsak did a deep dive into MCU/Spider-Man lore and seekrest supports everything she does ergo, some wild villains!!!
> 
> Pretty on-brand imo.
> 
> <3

Tony had expected a quiet evening for once. 

Pepper was home, the kid had safely arrived at his place over an hour ago from what Happy had told him and for once in his anxiety-riddled existence, Tony felt a small semblance of peace as he settled down into the couch. 

He should’ve expected that it wasn’t meant to last.

Tony leaned back, the smell of their lasagna still in the air when FRIDAY’s voice rings out saying, “Boss, there appears to be an issue with Peter’s suit.”

Tony hears Pepper’s soft laugh from across from him. He looks up at her, seeing the soft smile on her face. “I thought you were going to stop hovering.”

“I’m  _ not _ hovering, I’m just concerned for his well-being.” Tony replies before saying, “Give it to me, FRI. What’s happening?”

“That’s just it, boss.” Her voice chirps, “The suit is offline.”

Tony makes a face, checking his watch. “Well, FRI he’s home safe and sound so the suit being offline isn’t exactly cause for alarm?” He shrugs towards Pepper, seeing the same smile on her face. 

He almost thinks he’d have to run some kind of diagnostics on FRIDAY if she was alerting him for things when there wasn’t an issue, only for her voice to ring out again - sending a chill down his spine at her words. 

“Peter’s suit was online for thirty-seven minutes only to abruptly go off-line two minutes ago and has not restarted since. According to my protocol, I am obligated to alert you of abnormal occurrences. Have I miscalculated, boss?”

Tony immediately sits up, signaling for her to show him the feed of what Peter was dealing with - Pepper tensing beside him as they both watch the feed.

He immediately sees Peter’s point of view, swinging through the city in an up and down motion that makes Tony’s stomach churn. 

_ “Hey Karen, so what’s this guy’s problem?”  _ Tony can hear Peter’s voice through the screen, checking the time stamp only to see that the video is less than 3 minutes long. 

He’s immediately thrown into the action, watching as some kind of mechanized man that looks about ten feet tall, angrily growling at Peter as he dodges and swings. 

_ “Hey man, you sound like you got some anger issues. I know a guy that hook you up with a great therapist that--” _

_ “Puny Spider, rahhhhhh.”  _ The other man yells, Tony watching as Peter backflips out of the way, sending off webs to try and stop him. Peter’s go-to for people in any kind of motorized suits - because the kid seems to just attract that kind of fucking nonsense on a weekly basis - is his electric webs.

Tony can tell just as Peter does that they have no effect on him, seemingly have the opposite effect as the man roars, the electricity seemingly charging him up as he rushes towards Peter. 

_ “Oh shit. _ ” He hears Peter say, dodging him once more - Tony’s breath catching in his throat at how much of a near-miss it was. He finds himself walking towards the balcony, FRIDAY understanding his involuntary movements - hearing the suit start to deploy. 

Tony knew on a rational level that Peter could handle things on his own for the most part, he’d proven that over and over again in the few months since the Vulture. 

But there’s a countdown on the video he’s watching, his stomach churning less and less because of Peter’s frantic swinging and fighting and more because of how close the guy in some suit with a helmet that almost looks like a rhino continues to get to Peter - knowing the video will cut off sooner rather than later. 

He’s already off the balcony when he sees it, Peter seemingly pausing in place as the guy barrels towards him, hearing his voice say, “ _ Shit shit shit shit. _ ” before it ends - Tony flying through the sky.

“FRIDAY, give me coordinates to his last location.” The panic makes his voice waver, but he’s focused - putting all his energy into getting to wherever the kid was supposed to be.   


The way that Peter had sounded just before the video cut off didn’t sound anything like fear, but his vitals had been spiking just before - his heart rate through the roof that could either indicate that he was doing a great job in hiding his panic or was running on pure adrenaline.

_ Come on kid, be okay. Be okay. Be okay. _

It’s a mantra he runs through his head over and over ahead, flying closer and closer to where FRIDAY had told him he’d be last.   


The one shred of peace that Tony was holding on to as he flew was that Peter hadn’t been knocked out, at least not when the suit had shut down. 

Tony’s imagination is running ahead of him, wondering if his worst nightmares were going to come true and he’d arrive to find Peter seriously hurt or worse-- a thought that Tony can’t even bring himself to finish. 

But then the last time the kid had done this, initiating black out mode to solve the problem at hand, immediately comes back to him, wondering if this was some kind of ploy to take the guy down. 

If it was, then Peter would never hear the end of it - not allowing himself to think of the possibility that Peter was anything less than okay, that he was hurt, that he was--

And just as he suspected, he arrives - a wave of overwhelming relief flooding him to see the guy he’d been fighting knocked out, webbed up against the wall. 

Peter was still in the mask, fiddling with his web shooters - turning to face him as he waved.

“Hey Mr. Stark--”

“Don’t  _ hey _ me, Spider-Man.” Tony replies, seeing the way Peter tenses slightly. He immediately schools his tone, knowing his anger is more borne out of the slight panic that was now unwarranted - Peter seemingly looking okay from the way he was standing. 

Tony sighs, lifting the helmet as he says, “FRIDAY, lights out protocol.” 

A scan fills the alleyway they’re in, trusting that his tech was making it seem to anyone who passed by that it was empty. Peter recognizes the command, turning his head slightly to double check before ripping off his mask, Tony searching his face for any sign of injury.

He doesn’t even ask FRIDAY to check, seeing not so much as a bruise on Peter’s face - the slight smirk on his lips calming Tony’s racing heart. 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Stark?”

Tony nods towards the guy whose knocked out, avoiding the question for now as he asks, “What happened here?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Some guy who calls himself the Rhino. He’s always been out and about when I’m at school and you know May doesn’t like it when I ditch--”

“Your aunt’s right. Stay in school, Pete.”

“Anyway,” Peter continues, seeing the petulance in his eyes as if he’s already heard that from Tony and May enough that he doesn’t want to hear it again, “I got Karen to sync up alerts for when he shows up to my phone. I swung out here and--”

“What, decided to go old school? What’s with cutting the suit’s power, kid?” Peter smiles at Tony, seeing right through his facade and the way he was clearly trying not to panic. 

“His uh, his suit seems to like work off electricity?” Peter motioned towards the guy, Tony keeping his attention on Peter. “Figured that if I cut the power, channeling it all into my webs that I could like short-circuit him.”

Tony finally does glance over to the guy, seeing how fried the suit is. It was a good idea, one that clearly worked but all Tony can do is shake his head, sighing as he looked back to Peter.

“I had it, Mr. Stark. I’m okay.” Tony could almost laugh at how concerned Peter sounds, imagining that his expression must look more frazzled than he’s trying to let on. He sighs, bringing a hand to his shoulder.

“I know, I know, kid.” He leans down so he’s right in front of Peter’s face, bringing a hand to his chin. Peter’s slightly taken aback but Tony continues, hoping he understands how terrified he’d been. 

”But next time you throw yourself in front of a raging motorized lunatic, maybe send me a little warning before you shut down your suit?”

Peter nods, Tony letting go as he leans back slightly - patting him on the shoulder once more.

“You worry too much, Mr. Stark.” Peter replies but he’s smiling as he says it, Tony shoving him playfully.

“I have a heart condition, kid. I don’t know how to  _ not _ worry.” 

Peter laughs again, pulling his mask over his head - Tony waving his hand around for FRIDAY to end the lights out protocol as his own faceplate comes down. 

“You want me to handle this?” Tony gestures towards the rhino idiot, Peter shaking his head. 

“Nah, the cops should already be on their way. I had Karen call them before I shut her down.”

Peter pauses, Tony smiling under the helmet - having a guess for what Peter was going to ask him from how the conversation had gone. 

“But uh, can you--can I get a ride? My web shooters are fried and last time I rode the subway, I had to listen to some guy yell about vigilantes for like twenty minutes.”

Tony snorts. “Kid, you know Happy’ll be happy to give you a ride whenever you need it. You don’t have to ride the  _ subway _ .” 

Peter shrugs, looking every bit the nonchalant Queens kid that he is. “Didn’t want to bother him.” 

“You’re not a bother, kid. To him or to me.” He waves his hands towards him. “Come on, kid let’s go.”

The eyes on Peter’s mask widen, seemingly realizing what Tony was implying. “Wait, you want to fly me home? I thought you’d just send like, send for FRIDAY or something to--”

“Nah kid, let’s go.” Tony smiles under the helmet, seeing the way Peter’s shoulders slump in embarrassment as he sighs, Tony waving his hands to him. 

“This is embarrassing.”

“This is  _ payback _ , kid. Does your aunt even know you’re out here?”

Peter’s silence is all the answer he needs, hearing his sigh as Tony laughs. 

“You’re in for it now, Pete.”

Peter grumbles, Tony laughing even harder.

“Don’t remind me.” 


	4. Frog-Man

“Boss, Peter Parker has just entered the tower using the underground parking private entrance.”

“Oh yeah? I thought he was patrolling tonight,” Tony says, not so much as glancing up from his nearly-finished prototype. “Well, tell him to head to the lab.”

“He is aware of your location, however Mister Parker has insisted on going to the medbay.”

Tony looks up, heart beating wildly as his throat goes dry. “What?”

Tony looks around before fumbling for his phone - left on a side workbench and forgotten for hours - but sees no medical alerts from Karen.   


Still, something has to be  _ very _ wrong if the kid is voluntarily visiting the medical wing. Typically it’s a fight to get him to come in for anything less than the most serious of injuries.

If Peter came to the tower medbay of his own accord…

Tony heads for the lab doors and toward the elevator, pressing the button impatiently. The trip from the lab to the medbay floor only takes about ten seconds, but it’s long enough for Tony to imagine no less than seventeen ways the kid could be dying.

Damn his boundless imagination.

As soon as the doors slide open Tony races into the main onboarding area. The place is seemingly abandoned - the on-call nurse probably taking a break in the medical personnel relief room - and Tony looks around frantically.

“FRI, where’s--”

“Shower stalls, boss.”

Tony runs past the surgical suites, heading for the big bathroom that’s nearby. It was typically only used by the nurses to assist injured patients with bathing or showering, and Tony doesn’t think it’s been touched since Steve broke his hip nearly two years ago.

As soon as he enters he can hear the clear sound of a showerhead running, along with a moan of-- disgust?

He doesn’t bother to ask if Peter’s decent - preserving modesty always taking second place when it comes to potentially life-threatening injuries - and instead goes to pull back the shower curtain, terrified of what he might find but  _ needing _ to know.

“Kid, are you-- what the hell?”

Peter twists around from where he’s facing the wall. 

“Oh, hey Mister Stark,” he says, voice tinged with a mix of utter exasperation and tired resignation.

Peter is standing directly under the spray of the shower and wearing his full Spider-Man costume, mask and all. He’s also absolutely covered in some weird greenish-yellow liquid that appears to have the consistency of rubber glue-- the hot water appearing to have no effect on removing it.

The more Tony takes in the sight, the more confused he gets. He takes a breath and immediately scowls - whatever the weird goo is it smells  _ atrocious _ .

“Jeez, Pete,” Tony says, pinching his nose. “You smell worse than a skunk. Also what is…”

Tony reaches an arm out toward Peter’s shoulder but the kid steps back, out of reach.

“Believe me, you do  _ not _ want to touch this crap with your bare hands, Mister Stark.”

Tony lets his arm drop. “I’ll take your word for it. What the hell is it though? And how did it get all over you?”

Peter just lets out a sigh that sounds far too overburdened to come from any teenager, before leaning over slightly and resting his forehead against the wall tiles. 

After a few moments he asks, “If I tell you do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Sorry underoos, no can do,” Tony replies with a shit-eating grin, Peter letting out a frustrated huff at the sight. “But you might as well just tell me, otherwise I’ll be forced to ask Karen for the footage and we both know you don’t want that.”

“Stupid baby monitor,” Peter says, only to mumble something Tony can’t make out.

“‘Fraid I didn’t quite catch that, kid.”

“I got slimed by Frog-Man,” Peter repeats with a bite, Tony’s jaw dropping for a few moments as he processes the kid’s words.

He can’t help the boisterous guffaw that escapes him, feeling Peter’s unamused glare even through the mask.

“I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” Tony says, the suit lenses rolling in response. “I just-- Frog-Man? Seriously? I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than ‘Chemistro.’

“He’s a total pain in the ass, Mister Stark,” Peter says, grabbing at the body wash and starting to slather it all over the suit. 

“Not only does he shoot this ridiculously sticky, smelly goo crap but he can also leap something like fifty feet in the air. I’ve been trying to web him up for the cops but he keeps getting away. This is the second time he’s slimed me.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “Wait, this happened once before?”

Peter nods miserably as he painstakingly peels off a large wad of goo from his arm, only for it to stick to the finger pads of his suit. 

“I broke May’s washing machine trying to clean my suit, and she totally freaked out and made me hand-wash everything in the bathtub for two weeks. Two _ weeks. _ ”

“Ah, so that’s why you came here.”

Peter nods again, groaning when despite his tugging a particularly stubborn piece of hardened slime fails to come off. 

Tony watches him struggle for all of ten more seconds before he can’t take it anymore. “Okay, yeah, this isn’t working for me-- way too pitiful. Turn that thing off and wait here.”

“Wha- why?”

Tony doesn’t reply as he steps out of the communal bathroom and heads down the hallway toward the medical supply closet. He grabs a trash bag, some latex gloves, a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in Peter’s size before heading back. 

The kid is still right where he left him, shivering slightly now the shower’s turned off. Tony sets everything down right outside the stall, before pulling on the latex gloves.   


“Alright kid, let’s get that disgusting thing off you, shall we?”

Five minutes later Peter is toweling his hair dry while Tony - with two pinched fingers - carefully deposits the suit and mask in the trash bag. 

“How are you gonna get the slime off?” Peter asks.

Tony looks back down at the bag, pondering. “I’m thinking we’ll try a petroleum-based solvent first, and if that doesn’t work, just steam the damn thing. But the solvent ought to do the trick.”

“Cool,” Peter says, only to smirk a few moments later. “I can’t wait to see Ned’s face when I tell him Iron Man did my laundry.”

“Hey now,” Tony says, pointing at him with narrowed eyes, “don’t push your luck, stinky.”

Peter frowns. “It’s the suit that smells disgusting, not me.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Oh, because  _ eau de teenage boy _ is such a tantalizing aroma. My bad.”

They head back toward lab, Tony stifling a grin when he catches Peter surreptitiously sniffing one of his armpits. 

“Care to hang around while the suit soaks? I’ve been studying the schematics of Chemistro’s alchemy gun and I’m finally ready to test my - dare I say  _ improved _ upon - prototype.”

Peter’s eyes light up with interest. “I’m definitely in. What are you testing it on?”

Tony grins. “I was thinking of turning the contents of Rhodey’s sock drawer to steel, actually.”

Peter blanches, shaking his head back. “Nope. No way. I take it back. I saw what he did after you switched out his cologne for floral perfume.”

Tony shivers at the memory. “I thought we agreed never to speak of that.”

“All the more reason,” Peter replies sagely.

“Okay, fine,” Tony says, waving a hand. “We’ll do Pepper’s sock drawer instead.”

“...and you accuse  _ me _ of being the one with a death wish?”


	5. Doc Ock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: vague/hinted concern of sexual harassment.

“Hey kid, when you coming over?”

Tony can hear Peter’s muffled voice on the other line, frowning since there was no reason for the static. He glances at his own phone curiously for a moment before bringing it up to his ear again.

“Pete? You there?”

Peter’s voice comes then, Tony’s eyes narrowing as he strains to hear it. He’s so quiet, he’s almost whispering - Tony wracking his brain to try and remember where the kid could be that he didn’t want anyone else to hear where he was. 

“Uh, hi Mr. Stark. Do you-- you need something?”

Tony makes a face, bewildered as he says, “Just making sure you’re not face down in some ditch somewhere. You have a bad habit of disappearing without telling anyone where you are which I gotta tell you kid, I thought we established that I have a heart condition and physically cannot handle that kind of stress.” 

Tony glances at the time but it does nothing to quell his confusion at how cagey Peter is sounding, especially when Peter should’ve been out of school two hours ago. 

He and May had come to an agreement about his time in the lab, making sure that for as much as Peter wanted to clock in time in the suit for patrol or with him, that he also had time as _Peter Parker_ \- not so subtly enforcing quality time with his friends and to having some kind of normalcy in his life. 

Tony was glad that Peter was - all things considered - doing a much better job of balancing his personal life with his ‘superhero life’, smiling at the memory of how he’d described whatever Lego set he and the Ned kid were doing or how his ears burned bright red anytime he talked about the scary girl MJ that he’d gotten closer to. 

But it was four now, Peter should’ve been well on his way to the Tower - one of the few times he would have to do it on his own after the Rhino debacle, since Happy was taking a much-needed vacation. 

Tony couldn’t say he was _expecting_ for Peter to get side-tracked by his friends, but he wouldn’t be surprised - knowing from his last conversation with May that he was stressed about his classes, though it seemed to be less about the material and moreso just finding the time to do it all. 

He was about to make a mental note to consider diverting their ‘lab time’ into some kind of high tech study hall, debating whether he should hack into Midtown’s scheduler to check into what exactly Peter was studying or whether he should ask him outright, only for Peter to cough a little before speaking again.

“Um, I’m okay, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

“You feeling okay?” Tony sits up a little straighter, running through possible scenarios. The cough was circumspect, knowing from May that Peter hadn’t gotten sick since the bite - a clear cover for trying to lower his voice.

From what he remembered about what Peter had told him about his little friends - Tony really can’t believe that such a central part of his life includes being intimately aware of the inner-workings of high schoolers - the Ned kid babysat his little brother on Thursdays. 

That only left the other one - MJ, Tony’s mind provides - pursing his lips as he considers the endless amount of teasing that he’d been saving up for this moment.

“Oh, lost track of time did you? And what, or _who_ , pray tell, could have caused you to lose track of so much time that you forget about your dear old mentor, underoos? Hows is that MJ of yours doing?”

He hears something almost like a sputter on the other line, smile growing even wider only to pause - hearing Peter’s confused voice on the other end.

“What? MJ, what about her?”

“You’re not with her?” Tony asks.

“No? Uh no, no I’m not.” Tony hears another voice on the other end of the line, a male one - one that makes Tony’s eyes widen, not so much in surprise - he’d heard the kid mention Thor’s appearance a little too often to be considered coincidental - but in interest.

If the kid had someone else he was interested in, Tony was immediately invested in wanting to know more about them. 

“Oh, it’s a him then? Well, who is he Pete? You know your aunt and I--”

“I gotta go, Mr. Stark. I’ll call you back.”

And just like that Peter hangs up, Tony blinking a few times at the phone - trying to remember when that had ever happened before. 

* * *

Tony sits in confusion for approximately three seconds before he springs into action, pulling up the kid’s whereabouts from pinging his cell phone. Pepper said doing that was an invasion of his privacy and Tony knew it, his hand hovering over the screen in front of him before he sent the command.

On the one hand, Peter was a smart kid and if he wanted some alone time with a new friend, boyfriend, whatever the hell - he was entitled to it. This was the whole gig, wanting Peter to have balance in his life.

But there was something in Tony’s gut that bothered him about how short Peter was with him, a tinge of worry that there was something else going on even if he knew rationally that it likely wasn’t the case.

Before he gets to tap the screen and snoop on the kid’s whereabouts, Peter calls, Tony answering immediately.

“Mr. Stark--”

“Kid, you alright?”

He can hear Peter’s laugh on the other line, the sound of it calming Tony’s heart - not even realizing that it had started to beat just a little faster. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Mr. Stark. Dr. Octavius just doesn’t like cell phones in his lab.”

“Doctor… who?” 

Peter snorts. “Nice one, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t try and distract me with a nerdy reference, kid. Where you at?” 

“Still at school, Mr. Stark.” Peter doesn’t sound like he’s under duress, his voice clear - hearing the city sounds in the background, as if he was standing outside the school building.

Tony reverts back to his original plan, figuring that the privacy thing was malleable when he was on the phone with him - tapping the screen to see where Peter was.

The screen readout just proved what Peter was saying, the little blinking dot almost mocking him as he wracks his brain to try and remember when Peter had ever mentioned a Dr. Octavius. 

A quick internet search brings up results faster than Peter can speak up again, Tony’s eyes dancing around the screen. 

“Sorry Mr. Stark, I thought May had told you. I was gonna text you too but I, um--”

Peter sounded guarded again, almost as if he was hiding something - which didn’t make sense to Tony since he thought by now, they’d reached a point in their relationship that Peter didn’t feel the need to keep secrets from him.

 _Well, secrets about who you’re hanging around._ Tony rolled his eyes, thinking back to how often the kid tried to pass off any injuries as being less severe than they actually were. 

It was aggravating but it was at least a known entity, making Tony wonder what would cause Peter to be so secretive.

Tony pushed it away for the moment, saying, “It’s ok, Pete. You doing some kinda extra credit thing?”

“Yeah, yeah, something like that.” Is all the answer Tony gets, getting the sense that Peter wanted to get back to whatever he and Dr. Octavius were doing.

Something stirred in his gut, uneasiness rolling around but Tony held his tongue, if only because he couldn’t rationally explain what it was. 

“Okay kid well just, we can reschedule. I was gonna try and sit you down to do some homework anyway so,” Tony blows air out of his mouth, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great, Mr. Stark. See you then.” Peter chirps in from the other line, hanging up the phone before Tony can even say goodbye.

Tony squints at the phone then the screen, thinking that since Peter wasn’t coming by, he’d have plenty of time to learn all that he could about this Dr. Octavius anyway - knowing he could just ask Peter to fill in the blanks the next time he saw him.

* * *

A week passed before he saw Peter again.

He hadn’t gone completely without contact, catching a few minutes here and there while Peter went out on patrol - a phone call with May, asking if she’d seen anything suspicious.

She hadn’t, Tony keeping his thoughts to himself - wondering how he could broach the topic without coming across as being jealous.

He wasn’t, even if Pepper glanced at him sideways, saying as much when he mentioned Peter’s absence - pushing off a lab time yet _again_ \- over dinner.

“This Octavius guy, I looked him up Pep and something’s not right.”

Pepper had only take a sip of her wine, Tony sighing as he asked, “What?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” she starts, “I’m just wondering if maybe you’re feeling a little…”

“I’m not jealous, Pep. It’s been a week, the kid’s just busy.” Tony answers, avoiding Pepper’s knowing look.

He shakes his head, tapping his fork against the plate in front of him. “But something’s just not right. His work history doesn’t line up where it’s supposed to and he seemingly got hired at Midtown at the beginning of the year after the old chem teacher mysteriously had to leave.”

“Have you talked to Peter about it?” Pepper asks, Tony sighing again.

“Kid won’t talk but five minutes with me, and only when he’s in the suit.”

Tony frowns, pieces starting to fall into place. 

Otto Octavius wasn’t who he seemed, his credentials seeming real but not much else - wondering how he got through whatever screening measures that Midtown usually enforced.

Peter was smart, brilliant in a way that any person with any kind of intelligence - much less the kind that this so-called “teacher” seemed to have - would’ve taken notice. 

It occurs to Tony that Peter might be unaware that there’s something amiss, Tony wondering what the hell kind of project that he could have Peter working on that he’d be so hesitant to be around him.

But Tony chases away that thought as quickly as it comes, the months of knowledge that he had now of who Peter was telling him that that couldn’t be the case.

Something was up - with Peter, with Octavius, something Peter had to have been aware of on some level. But he doesn’t push it with Pepper at dinner, just telling himself to hold off until the next day - if only to give himself the time to figure out how to approach it.

* * *

The time Tony gives himself turns out to be unnecessary, Peter showing up as if nothing had been different at 4pm on the dot.

“Hey Mr. Stark!”

Tony whirls around, in mild surprise as the doors slid open, a wide smile on Peter’s face.

“Kid, hey you’re— how you doing?”

Peter sighs, as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders before smiling again - plopping down on a stool.

“Fine, I’m okay. Had some… really weird shit this week.”

Tony’s gut flares just then, his intuition telling him that it was exactly what he had wanted to talk to Peter about but holding his tongue, saying instead, “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Peter laughs, propping his head up on the lab desk with his hands. “You’re gonna think it’s weird.”

Tony laughs then, leaning forward. 

“Kid, you showed up last month _completely_ covered in some old school _Nickelodeon_ slime.”

Peter smirks, Tony tilting his head. “Trust me, I can handle it.”

* * *

Peter had apparently known something was wrong with Octavius from the start.

“You know how I got this sense for things? Like, I can tell when something’s up?”

Tony nods in encouragement as Peter continued.

His senses had gone haywire every time he went to class - Tony making the connection for why he was so stressed about class, knowing now that he was likely too distracted to focus on the material. 

“It wasn’t like, anything… nothing like I could explain. Not really when he was so nice to everyone.” 

A flash of something else, something darker stirs in his stomach - Tony’s heart beating a little faster as Peter glances up at him, Tony reminding himself that Peter’s hearing made any change that much more noticeable.

His eyes widen, Tony’s expression betraying him as he put a hand up. 

“Nothing like that, Mr. Stark. He wasn’t—“ Peter shakes his head, “it wasn’t _that_.”

Tony lets out a sigh of relief, one that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding as Peter pressed forward.

“But he was _really_ interested in me. Almost like he _knew_ that I worked with you but I couldn’t figure out how.”

Peter rubbed a hand across his face, pursing his lips. “He kept trying to get me to join his after-school project. Flash joined cause of course he did,” Peter rolled his eyes, saying, “But Dr. Octavius was _so_ focused on me that I just—I knew something was wrong.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Pete? If it was happening all—“

“Cause I couldn’t figure out how to talk about it without everyone thinking it was… the other thing.” Peter says, Tony understanding even if it still churned something inside him that Peter had been dealing with something on his own for so long.

“And if I did that, made it a big deal before I knew what it was,” Peter said, bringing his hand down as he waved around in the air, “I’d ruin any chance of figuring out what was really going on.”

“So what’d you find?” Tony asks, holding his tongue even if he wanted to yell - less at Peter but more for the thought that he was putting himself in potential danger towards some kind of unknown problem.

“Not much till this week. I finally joined his after-school project as a cover, partly for extra credit but mostly to figure out what he was doing.”

Peter shrugs, looking into Tony’s eyes. “I didn’t find anything really, but I just couldn’t explain it, Mr. Stark. Something… wasn’t right.”

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes away as he said, “I still didn’t have any proof but I just went to Principal Morita anyway. I knew it wouldn’t make any sense but I had to tell him that was something was off. He’s always saying that we can go to him for anything so I did.”

“And?” Tony gently prods, knowing the story had to have some kind of resolution considering Peter was here in front of him.

Peter shrugged again. “He said he’d look into it and that was that.”

Peter smirks, locking eyes with Tony again. “But when I went to class today, Dr. Octavius was gone. Our sub said he had to ‘leave for personal reasons’.”

“So that’s that? It’s over?”

“I don’t know,” Peter says, a faraway look in his eyes, “But he’s not at school and he’s not coming back anytime soon. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.” 

Tony sighs before saying, “You should’ve come to me, kid. You know me or May would have helped.”

Peter shakes his head, the steely look in his eyes that Tony knows so well by now flashing before him - an admirable but frustrating conviction of whatever it is that he was doing was right.

“If I was right, if he knew about my connection to you, I couldn’t risk it, Mr. Stark. If he knew about my internship, that’s one thing but if he knew about Spider-Man…” Peter trails off as he shakes his head once more.

“I can’t risk that, Mr. Stark. I can’t risk May or Ned or… anyone else.”

Tony takes a deep breath, studying Peter as he exhales. Even if Tony’s gut had warned him that something was wrong this week, it was clear to him now that Peter had been thinking ahead for the past few months - Tony looking at the kid while a surge of pride and admiration flowed through him.

Peter was smart, brilliant and capable of handling himself. Tony had every intention of watching over him, he’d decided long ago that he’d rather die than have anything happen to Peter.

Yet seeing him now, it reminded Tony once again that Peter was capable - not just in strength but in intelligence, solidifying for him the kind of hero he would be years from now, the one that Tony could imagine leading them all someday.

Peter was already the best among them, and Tony felt thankful that he has the chance to see it before so many other inevitably would.

He brushes away those thoughts for now, thinking they’d have plenty of time to talk about that, choosing instead to say, “Anyone else huh? Wouldn’t happen to be thinking of _anyone else_ in particular?”

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, eyes narrowing as he says, “Who are you—“

“Don’t think May and I haven’t heard enough of stories of that little friend of yours… MJ, right?”

The furious way Peter blushes confirms everything he needs to know, holding back a laugh as Peter starts to stammer.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re—“

Tony laughs, bringing a hand to his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, kid.”

Peter smiles, Tony returning it as he says, “Your secret’s safe with me.”


	6. Sandman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday iron_spider!!!!!!
> 
> We love you!
> 
> :)

Tony sighs as he enters the penthouse, undoing his tie and tossing it on the chaise lounger before heading into the kitchen to scrounge up a late dinner. It had been a long day of meetings, and with Pepper out of the country for a prolonged business trip, he’d been forced to pay attention for once. And now he had hours of paperwork to sift through.

God, he really doesn’t miss being CEO.

He’s at the kitchen table working through a plate of reheated green bean casserole and reading through a proposal from R&D when FRIDAY speaks up. “Boss, Spider-Man is currently fighting Sandman at an abandoned furniture factory in Brooklyn.”

Tony swallows a bite, continuing to read the proposal. “Pull up the footage, FRI.”

Normally Tony doesn’t get an alert every time Peter goes up against a baddie, but Sandman’s a unique case-- ever since he came on the scene six months ago, the villain has always seemed to have it out for Peter, seemingly seeking him out rather than Peter coming upon him. 

It wasn’t the first time Spider-Man had been targeted by a bad guy, but for some reason this particular bad guy set off every Peter-attuned alarm in Tony’s head, and he’d asked FRIDAY to alert him of any appearances after the villain’s second unprovoked attack on the kid. 

The kitchen flatscreen turns on, revealing a live-feed from Peter’s suit. Tony glances up, watching from Peter’s point of view as the kid jumps up and clings to a wall, dodging one of Sandman’s sledgehammer fists.

_ “Hey, what do you call it when a pig and a witch meet in the desert?”  _ the kid calls out as he webs over to another wall. 

_ “A ham SAND-witch!” _

Tony lets out a groan, rubbing at his eyes.

“You need better jokes, kid,” he says aloud even though Peter can’t hear him.

The kid turns to look down at where Sandman stands staring up at him in rage - clearly not finding the joke any more amusing than Tony had.

_ “Tough crowd tonight, jeez… or maybe that’s just your resting beach face?” _

Tony chuckles half-heartedly. “Okay, that one was a little better.”

He watches for a couple minutes as the kid keeps trying to web the villain up, only for the man to dissolve into small particles and morph back into himself each time.   


At one point the man even latches onto one of the webs and yanks, Peter nearly tumbling right into Sandman’s swinging fist only to arch his torso back, just barely dodging the punch.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tony mutters, feeling a jolt of worry. He starts to stand up, about to unleash the suit-- only to pause. 

A year ago - hell, six months ago - Tony would have been flying out of the tower before FRIDAY even finished informing him of the situation. 

But watching the kid now, Tony sees plainly that Peter is having no trouble keeping out of range of Sandman’s more lethal moves-- hell, the kid doesn’t even have so much as a scratch on him. 

Sandman may be tough to catch because of his unique abilities, it was true. But the bigger truth is clear as Tony watches the two do battle: Peter doesn’t need Tony’s help. 

Thankfully, the thought only makes him more proud of the kid, even as it’s a shock to realize he really does believe Peter can handle this without him.

Tony sniffs, before looking back down at the proposal before him. He’ll hold out for now-- Peter can handle this guy just fine. 

“FRIDAY, keep the footage playing but on mute,” Tony says, knowing the AI will let him know the moment anything goes amiss. After a few seconds he adds, “And have Karen tell Pete that I’m around if he needs me.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Tony’s already anticipating some later quip from the kid about being impressed at his mentor’s restraint, but he knows the teen will genuinely appreciate the gesture. Peter - sweet kid that he is - has been mostly patient with Tony’s overprotectiveness over the past year but Tony can tell it sometimes grates on the teen. 

_ Well look at me now, underoos. _

With that, Tony becomes engrossed in his work again, glancing up only twice to check on the kid. After about fifteen minutes he happens to look up just in time to see Peter stealthily crawl up from behind where Sandman is crouched, aiming and then sending a flurry of taser webs. 

Sparks fly in all directions as most of the webs careen past the villain but luckily one makes direct contact with Sandman’s back. The man shudders for about five seconds before dropping like a sack of potatoes, Peter gracefully swinging down and standing over him in victory.

“I knew you had it handled, underoos,” Tony says, beaming with pride as the kid assesses the villain’s condition - making sure he’s thoroughly unconscious but still breathing - and telling Karen to call the police as he swings for the exit. “You can turn it off, FRI.”

The screen goes black, and Tony picks up his phone to shoot the kid a text:  _ Nice work, Spider-Man _ . Smiling to himself and feeling a warm burst of affection in his chest, he sets his phone down and turns back to his work while he waits for the phone to chirp with Peter’s response.

But the chirp never comes. 

* * *

“Boss,” FRIDAY says not ten minutes later, just as Tony is moving to check if his phone’s on mute, only to freeze at the urgency in her tone. “The Spidersuit is reporting potentially damaging thermal temperatures in excess of 1,700 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“What the hell?” Tony exclaims, shooting out of his chair just as the screen comes back up with the baby monitor live feed, revealing a giant cavernous room teeming with fire.   


Tony can just barely make out a pile of old, half-finished remains of rotting wooden chairs, and realizes it’s the old furniture factory the kid had just been fighting Sandman inside not fifteen minutes earlier.

Tony’s in the suit and leaping off the balcony in seconds, and he doesn’t even bother waiting for Peter to pick up his call-- just forces it through. Immediately he hears the sound of Peter harshly coughing and further in the background, the roar of the flames.

“Peter, what are you doing? Get out of there!”

Another deep, rough cough, then, “I will, Mis’r Stark. Just have to get -  _ cough _ \- Sandman first.”

“No, you damn well do  _ not _ ,” Tony says, trying to stay calm even as alert after alert from the Spidersuit comes up on his HUD monitor. “You need to listen to me and get the fuck out of there right now. That’s an order, dammit!” __

“S’my fault-- taser webs -  _ cough _ \- I’m not leaving him!”

Just then there’s the sound of something large - probably a ceiling beam - clanging on the floor of the factory, causing Tony’s already anxiety-riddled nerves to skyrocket into near panic. “Kid?”

“Sorry I got -  _ cough cough _ \- gotta do this!”

With that the kid hangs up, Tony swearing a blue streak even as he can now see the flames from the giant warehouse come into view, licking viciously at the sky. 

As much as Tony always joked that the kid was simply too good for his own good - that he lacked certain necessary self-preservation instincts - seeing it in action now was frankly terrifying. Why the hell couldn’t Tony have picked a mentee who was at least a little uncharitable? Why the hell did Peter have to be so stupidly  _ selfless _ all the time?

Yet even in his panic and cursing, Tony knows that Peter’s kind heart is without a doubt what he loves most about the teen at the end of it all. Though truth be told, there’s nothing Tony can think of that he doesn’t love about the kid. 

For a moment Tony wishes he’d already told Peter that, only to shake the thought away. Tony will tell him later, after this is all over and he’s safe. Because Peter is going to be  _ fine,  _ damn it.

He’s five seconds from touch down when he asks FRIDAY for the kid’s location.

“Northwest corner, boss. It appears he’s heading for a side exit.”

Tony lands at the northwest corner, running to the rickety metal door there, wrapping his hand around the knob - suit protecting him from being burned - and yanking it open only to be met with a wall of flames.

_ Nonono Peter-- _

He’s about to fly into the inferno - high chances of taking on critical thermal damage be damned - when there’s the sound of breaking glass to his left.   


He turns to see Peter lunging himself out a small window about 15 feet above the ground, one arm wrapped around a hacking Sandman. 

They hit the ground with a thud, the villain raising an arm out of the way as they roll-- an arm formerly made of sand but which Tony is now astonished to see has melted into a thick glass. 

Tony takes a steadying breath, hearing the sound of police sirens only a block away. He’s more relieved than he can put into words when Peter gets up after just a few seconds, only to lean over and politely but tiredly offer a hand to Sandman who lay on his back, still coughing and out of breath. 

The villain goes to take Peter’s outstretched arm with his non-glass hand, putting his other behind his back where Tony has a clear view of it. 

Maybe if Tony wasn’t so distracted by the shiny glint of Sandman’s arm reflecting off the flames he would have anticipated what was coming. 

As it was he was only thirty feet away, but still too far to stop what happened next.

Sandman stands tall over Peter, leaning in and whispering something in the kid’s masked ear. Tony doesn’t know what the man says, but whatever it is causes Peter’s entire body to freeze up, his previously loose posture going statuesque. 

Just then Tony spots the glass arm behind Sandman’s back morph into a thick spear with a sharp point as he pulls it back around.

“Watch out!” Tony cries out, blasting in his direction. 

The kid’s head twists just slightly to look at him, mask lenses widening. The split-second of distraction is all it takes for Sandman to stab Peter clean through his midsection.

_ “No!” _

Peter doesn’t make a sound, just slowly looks down at his stomach with an expression of disbelief. He lifts his head to look at Sandman, who grins triumphantly in response and pulls out the glass arm blade just as Tony lands next to Peter, catching the teen before he can collapse onto the pavement.

“Kid,” Tony breathes as he stares down at the gaping wound, which is already gushing blood. He glances back up into Peter’s wide eyes, his shocked expression. Tony imagines his own face looks just as horrified.

_ “Kid,”  _ Tony repeats, and the nickname is a question and a plea and a promise all wrapped into one.

“T-tony,” Peter whispers back. He lifts a shaking arm up to feel at the wound but Tony grabs at his hand, stopping him.

“No, kiddo, don’t touch.”

Blaring sirens and tire screeches announce the arrival of the cops, followed quickly by three fire trucks. First responders begin to flood the area, and Tony looks up at where Sandman stands, staring down at Peter with malicious glee.

The villain doesn’t even try to flee, just puts his arms out for the cops to cuff. Tony has no idea why he’s going quietly but it doesn’t matter - the only thing that matters right now is splayed across Tony’s lap, bleeding out. 

Two EMTs run up to Tony with a backboard, and  _ shit _ \-- Tony can’t risk anyone not cleared and bound by an ironclad NDA finding out Peter’s identity. 

“Iron Man, we need to--”

Tony doesn’t reply, mask encasing his face as he stands back up, adjusting Peter in his arms. The kid cries out at the motion and Tony winces, already knowing he’ll be hearing that gut-wrenching sound over and over again in his nightmares.

Without so much as a word he blasts off into the sky, setting off toward the tower at the fastest speed he can go and still safely carry Peter. His HUD monitor fills with the kid’s vitals and Tony wants to scream, he wants to pass out, he wants to smash his head against a wall because Peter isn’t just injured, he’s  _ dying _ and it’s Tony’s fault, it’s his fucking fault, he wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t--

Peter moans and Tony closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He can punish himself for this absolutely catyclismic fuck-up later. 

But for now, Peter needs him. 

“FRIDAY, alert the medbay. Get-- get everyone on it-- he’s--”

“Already done, boss. They are preparing the surgical suite and awaiting your arrival.”

Tony takes a shuddering breath. He looks down at Peter, relieved to see the kid’s mask lenses are lazily blinking up at him.

“Hey, underoos. What did I say about not letting yourself become a human shish kebab, huh? If nothing else I  _ definitely _ put that in the teenage vigilante rulebook I gave you to read.”

Peter just continues to blink at him, doesn’t so much as attempt to laugh or banter back the way he always does when he’s injured. It makes Tony bite his lip hard, heart sinking into his stomach.

“S-sorry,” Peter eventually breathes out, only to start coughing wetly-- Tony’s heart leaping into his throat when he spots dark liquid staining the mask around the kid’s mouth.   


He can’t see it dripping down from this angle but he has no doubt the kid’s injuries are quickly drying him out, his vitals indicating a horrifying rate of blood loss.

They’re less than a quarter mile from the tower but it’s too damn far away, and Tony tries to steady himself.

_ He’s alright he’s alright everything’s gonna be alright-- _

Peter’s eyes drift closed then, body going limp even as his breaths come fast and shallow. 

“Peter?” 

When he gets no answer Tony shakes him, Peter letting out a small moan as his stab wound is jostled.

“You have to stay awake, underoos,” Tony desperately implores, vision flooding with tears when Peter’s mask lenses don’t so much as twitch. 

His kid is unconscious and dying and the last thing he did was fuckin’  _ apologize  _ and it’s all Tony’s fault, he should have listened to his instinct to go help the kid, should have--

The landing pad on the med bay level comes into sight, a gurney and no less than four medical personnel waiting outside. Just as Tony’s about to land Peter’s vitals go off the deep end, his HUD monitor lighting up with alert after alert.

“He’s crashing, boss,” FRIDAY says in his ear just as Tony’s feet hit the ground. The medics rush forward with the gurney, Tony setting Peter down on it as gently as he can. 

Tony reaches a hand out toward the kid - feeling a semi-hysterical urge to provide some sort of comfort - but as soon as Peter’s laid out Tony is pushed out of the way by a nurse. 

People are shouting but Tony can’t process any of it, can only watch as Peter is raced back into the tower, down the hall and around a corner, out of Tony’s reach. 

Tony is left standing alone, mask still on and eyes fixed on the kid’s vitals which are still a violent shade of red. Tony stares at them, waiting for them to even out, for the red to turn back to normal.

But normal never comes. 

Instead the vitals simply blip out - the numbers and red disappearing both - and Tony’s already overtaxed heart goes off the charts.

_ Nononono not him-- _

“FRIDAY? God, no, don’t--”

“They just took his suit off, boss,” FRIDAY gently says, and Tony closes his eyes.

_ Not dead not dead not dead please don’t be dead-- _

Tony wrenches himself out of the Iron Man suit, before stumbling forward and tripping. He lands on his hands and knees, gravity and exhaustion slowly pulling him to the side until his butt hits the ground. 

Dazed, he looks around aimlessly, eyes latching onto a small drop of crimson by his left foot. Slowly his gaze wanders up until he’s looking at the front of the suit, seeing yet more of Peter’s blood smeared across the front torso and dripping down the legs.

He shakes his head back and forth, a sob wrenching itself out of his throat as he brings his hands to his head, pulling at his hair.

He knows he should go inside, find out what’s going on, make sure Peter’s stabilized. But Tony can’t bring himself to climb out of the abyss just yet. Because this - Peter dying, maybe even already dead - this is  _ his _ fault,  _ his _ failure,  _ his _ epic fuck-up. 

And worse, it’s nothing like the events leading up to Peter’s takedown of the Vulture, when Tony was just a neglectful piece of shit where the kid was concerned. 

No, it’s more insidious than that. 

Because Tony knows he made the best call with the information he had at the time-- after all, Peter  _ had _ captured Sandman without his help. Tony couldn’t have possibly foreseen the fire.

Which means that even being the best mentor he can be, Peter can still get horrifically injured - even killed. 

It’s one thing to know it’s a faint possibility, and another thing to have the kid leave a literal trail of blood from here to Brooklyn-- to go into cardiac arrest.

The fact is, Tony can’t help but believe that  _ any _ injury Peter suffers will always be a result of Tony not protecting him properly. 

Because Peter is  _ sixteen--  _ he’s a child, even if he doesn’t always think he is. 

But that’s Peter’s job, Tony knows. It’s Peter’s job right now to navigate those awkward years between childhood and adulthood, while it’s Tony’s job to make sure he has that chance.

Tony did his best tonight, and he still failed. And that fucking  _ terrifies _ him.

* * *

He’s not sure how long he’s out there on the landing pad, knees pulled up and head down in much the same position he found Peter all those months ago, on the night of the plane crash. 

The sky is still dark when there’s the soft  _ whoosh _ of the landing pad’s sliding doors, and a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“Get off your ass, Stark. I’ve been waiting in that hallway for over two hours with just Happy for company and we ran out of things to talk about ninety minutes ago.”

Tony glances up with red-rimmed eyes to see a frazzled but determined May Parker leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding out a cup of coffee.

Tony shoots up, the action making him dizzy as she goes to steady him - the hand on his shoulder a calming, grounding presence as he searches her face, hand extended.

“May. I’m—I’m so sorry.”

May lets his shoulder go, pushing the coffee into his open hand as she waves her finger. “No, don’t do that. Happy had FRIDAY tell me what happened.”

The coffee in Tony’s hand is shaking, he notices only to realize a moment later that it’s  _ him  _ who’s shaking, May noticing it as she nods for them to come inside.

But Tony can’t, locked into place at the thought of what was waiting for him. That Peter was bleeding out, that his eyes had closed, that he hadn’t—

“He’s in surgery now. Some nurse told me that he,” May takes a deep breath, Tony hearing the waver in it as she continued, “he’s fighting hard.”

“God, May I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have been in that position. It’s my fault— I didn’t think, didn’t look to—“

“Are you going to stand there and feel sorry for yourself or are you going to come in and join me while we wait for our kid?”

Tony blinks - in surprise and in slight shock at May’s words, watching as she sighs - seeing the crack in her expression as she does so.

May shakes her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Tony. You can’t. Peter,” her eyes lift up as she tries to find the words for what she’s trying to say, a look that reminds him so much of Peter and his mannerisms, “he’s always going to try and help people, even ones who don’t deserve it.”

Her eyes meet his, the fury at the villain who’d brought them both here mirrored back in her eyes. 

“But you sitting here, blaming yourself for something—“

“I should’ve been there, May. It’s my fault.” Tony’s voice cracks, feeling the shudder of his shoulders and like something was lodged in his throat as he continued, “I dismissed it, turned the video off, focused on my work. If I had just been more aware— if I’d been there—“

“Do you know I lost Peter once?”

Tony’s head turns so fast it almost hurts, staring back at May in bewilderment as she continued.

“It was years and years ago. Richard and Mary were out of town and Ben,” May pauses for a beat before pressing forward, “he had to go into work. I had the day off and a three year old, and I was terrified ‘cause for the first time it had just been Peter and I without Ben.”

Tony waits, curious to where this story is leading, if only because from all he knew about May, she was an excellent parental figure to Peter - one of the few he had left.

_ The only one _ , Tony thinks considering his failure tonight, only for May’s voice to bring him out of it.

“I had the bright idea to go to the mall. I thought it’d be a good distraction, get his energy out while I got some Christmas shopping done.”

May gets a faraway look in her eyes, as if her mind was sending her back to that day. “I took my eyes off of him for  _ one _ second, his little hand just slipped out of mine and…”

May trails off, shaking her head before meeting Tony’s eyes again. 

“I found him, fifteen minutes later. He’d gone to a police woman, just sitting there without a care in the world.” May laughs, a soft one - the sound inexplicably calming Tony slightly. “Scariest fifteen minutes of my life.”

May smiles again, before saying, “I told Ben about it later, worrying that I’d scarred him for life and you know what he said to me?” 

He waits, May just smiling at him. 

“He said that you can do everything right, you can try and protect them but things can still go wrong.” May nods towards him again, compassion written all over face even if Tony could tell she was just as worried as he was - if not more. 

“Don’t blame yourself for something you can’t control, Tony. You didn’t do this.”

“May—“

“Look,” she interjects, “no one knows what they’re doing, okay? We just keep going and hope for the best sometimes. I tortured myself for weeks about losing him, but he doesn’t even remember it now.”

“This isn’t the same,” Tony tries to explain even as she shakes her head, “I should’ve been there for him. If I had just—“

“But you were,” May says, bringing a hand to his shoulder again, “You  _ were _ there for him. The nurse said he—“ she takes a moment, “if you hadn’t gotten there when you did, it could’ve been worse.”

He shudders, closing his eyes at the possibility of his worst nightmare coming to life as May speaks.

“But you did, and you got him here alive. You’re not doing him any favors by torturing yourself about the what-ifs or if onlys.”

Tony opens his eyes again, seeing the tired smile on her face.

“I’m out of my depth with this superhero thing, Stark. Skinned knees, broken hearts, I can handle all of that but this,” May taps him in the chest, the ghost of where the arc reactor had been before, “This is where you come in, being there for him in a way that I wish I could but I can’t.”

Tony just listens, nodding wordlessly as May straightens up, beckoning him off the balcony. 

“Come on. Let’s go inside, check in on our kid.”

He smiles, feeling as if he doesn’t deserve her kindness - a thousand apologies still on his lips, only to pause at the look on her face, letting them die in his throat before he says a word.

Tony wouldn’t be able to forgive himself as quickly as May clearly had, but he could listen to her request - following behind her and hoping that she was right.

That he hadn’t been too late to save Peter. 

* * *

It takes another hour before the doctors come out of the surgical suite - but when they do, it’s all smiles. 

Peter was going to be okay, set to make a full recovery after some rest - his healing already working in overtime to mend the damage that they’d started to fix. 

Not long after, Tony and May had been allowed into his room. Together they sat vigil, each holding one of the kid’s hands, only occasionally talking between themselves. 

But now it was going on nearly a full day since the stabbing, and the kid had yet to wake up. 

May had fallen asleep in the corner recliner around noon, but Tony was glued to his tablet, finding he couldn’t rest yet - not until that  _ sorry _ echoing in his head was no longer the last thing he heard Peter say.

It seemed likely he was going to get his wish when, around hour twenty-two, Peter eyelids started to twitch. Tony stood up immediately, dropping the tablet and leaning over the kid, gently squeezing his hand. 

“C’mon underoos,” he says softly. “Show me those baby browns, kid.”

Slowly, the kid’s eyes blink open, glassy and unfocused and looking every which way before finally fixating on Tony, who’s grinning down at him.

“Hey, Pete.”

The kid’s eyes scrunch up in confusion, but his heart rate doesn’t pick up at all like it had the few times before he’d been laid up in the med bay - Tony realizing with a sharp pang that the kid had been here enough times the place was no longer unfamiliar or foreign.

Peter mumbles something underneath his oxygen mask, and gently Tony lifts it down just enough so it doesn’t cover his mouth. He grabs the pitcher of water on the side table and pours a glass, helping Peter lift his head enough to take a few sips.

It seemed Peter wasn’t the only one who had unfortunately gotten used to this routine, Tony thinks, setting the glass down with a sigh.

Peter clears his throat, before asking in a soft croak, “Wha’ happ’ned?”

Tony sits back down in his chair, taking Peter’s hand again. “What do you remember?”

“Uh… the fire. Getting Sandman out, I think?”

Tony nods. “Well, turns out Sandman becomes Glassman he comes in contact with an inferno. He stabbed you right through your midsection with his arm.”

Peter’s eyes go wide for a moment, and Tony can tell when the memory of the stabbing hits him.   


What he doesn’t expect is Peter’s eyes to well up as he turns his gaze to the ceiling, trying and failing to blink away the tears. “It’s my fault, Mister Stark.”

Tony squeezes his hand a bit tighter. “Kid, you saved his life. Pretty sure that’s the opposite of asking for--”

“No, not that,” Peter says, voice wobbly. “Before he stabbed me, he told me that-- that it was my fault he was like that. That I let him get hit with the-- with the alchemy gun.”

Tony’s brow furrows for a few moments, before everything comes together with a terrible clarity. 

Sandman was the civilian that was injured the day of the fight with Chemistro, months and months ago.

_ Shit. Shitshitshit.  _

Tony had known Sandman had an obsession with Spider-Man-- why hadn’t he done more research to find out the man’s identity? He could have had the asshole arrested and put an end to this long before last night. 

But no, Tony can’t go down that path again. Not after May just helped him climb out of the last guilt spiral.

There’s a soft sniffle, and Tony focuses back on Peter, who is still staring up at the ceiling, tears falling down into the hair at his temples. 

“It’s my fault,” Peter repeats, closing his eyes as the tears fall.

_ No _ , Tony thinks as a new determination fills him upon hearing those words from the kid again. 

No, that just won’t do. Tony will not let Peter fall into that same cycle of guilt and self-recrimination that he himself so easily and often does. He simply  _ won’t.  _

_   
_ God knows the kid already has a guilt complex to rival Tony’s - he’s not letting Peter add this to it too.

“Peter, look at me,” Tony says in a low no-nonsense voice. For once the kid listens without hesitation, though his face crumples when he meets Tony’s eyes.

“Listen to me, Peter. This is not your fault,” Tony says. Peter closes his eyes again, twisting away but Tony kindly grabs his chin, turning his head back to look at him again.

“Listen,” Tony repeats, this time more gently. “It’s awful what happened to that man, but that doesn’t make him any less responsible for what he did-- for what he chose to become. And I don’t mean a man made of sand-- I mean a man controlled by bitterness. A man who decided that hurting other people with his powers - even if he never asked for them - was the answer to his pain.”

Tony looks deep into Peter’s eyes, hoping the kid will see how sincere his words are. That he’ll see how much Tony believes them-- _ knows _ them to be true.

“Do you remember what you told me, back when we first met?” he asks.

Peter shakes his head slightly. 

Tony nods, giving Peter a small, sad smile. “You said that when you have powers like yours, and you don’t use them to help-- then the bad things happen because of you. Do you remember that?”

“Y-yeah,” Peter whispers, sniffling again.

“Well here’s the thing about that, kid,” Tony continues. “You can do all the good in the world, Pete - give it everything you’ve got - and sometimes, those bad things? They’re still gonna happen. Because the fact is that we can’t control everything, kiddo. Even with superpowers, or billions of dollars of tech-- we just can’t.

“But what we can control is whether we let the bad things that happen that we couldn’t stop, control  _ us _ . Sandman made the wrong choice, but you-- you can make the right one. Hell, you already did when instead of going after Norman Osborn you decided to become a one-man Neighborhood Watch operation in nothing but a onesie. Do you understand what I’m trying to say here, Pete?”

The kid takes a deep breath, before nodding slowly. “I think so... no, I-- I do.”

Tony gazes into Peter’s eyes for a few seconds more but sees no hesitancy, just a steady determination. “Good, well, alright then. Looks like I can cross ‘feelings talk with the spiderling’ off the weekly to-do.”

Peter snorts, only to start coughing. Tony scrambles for the kid’s mask, gently placing it back up over his mouth and nose, the kid immediately sighing as he takes a deep breath of oxygen, eyes closing.

“Get some rest, underoos,” he says, patting the kid’s cheek tenderly - just barely resisting the urge to bend down and kiss his forehead - before sitting back in his chair.

“‘K, Mis’er S’ark,” the kid sleepily mumbles through the mask

Tony watches him for a minute longer, but Peter’s eyes don’t open again. Soon enough his breathing evens back out, Tony taking comfort in his soft exhales.

With Peter settled, Tony picks up his abandoned tablet, going back to the schematics for item 17-A-- the kid’s nano-suit. He was going to make a few upgrades before presenting it to Peter, but this time  _ without  _ a press conference or an Avengers invitation. 

No, this time it will be only with orders to wear-- because no way in hell was Tony letting something like this  _ ever _ happen again.

And maybe when he presented the suit to him, Tony could tell Peter the same thought he had as he was racing toward the fiery factory-- that Tony loved him as much as he could imagine loving any child of his very own.

It’s a good plan, Tony decides-- glancing up at Peter with a fond smile even as he fiddles with the design for the new retractable legs.

Time-wise, he figured if he made it his top priority he’d have Spidersuit Mark II done and ready for deployment as early as next week-- could even surprise the kid with it over Peter’s spring break when they’d have time for proper training, after that field trip to MoMA he’d mentioned a few days back.

And once the kid has the suit - which Tony had already nicknamed the Iron Spider, and no, he’s  _ not _ going to think too hard about why his brain picked that name, it’s just a nickname, it doesn’t mean anything,  _ obviously _ \- then maybe Tony will be able to finally relax. 

Because nothing - no mugger, no bad guy, no earthly villain - would ever be able to hurt Peter in that suit. 

Tony was going to make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated :) come hang out with us on tumblr: [blondsak](https://blondsak.tumblr.com) and [seekrest](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


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